I shouldn’t have mentioned it to D’wayne, that’s not his real name, but it’s what I call him. There’s and old Key & Peele sketch that I like very much, D’wayne has never seen it. He humors me by accepting the moniker. “At least we’ve had a pretty decent dry spell. Your camp road is…
Author: Tim Cotton
The Quilt Lady; Don’t Let Her Fool You
My dealer is a diminutive lady who has an addiction of her own; she appears to be overrun with product. I’m merely the means to an end. It’s not something that I am proud of either; men don’t admit habits like this one. I’m sure my T-levels are reasonable; I still look longingly at muscle…
Last Things First
The rocketing fuel prices have caused me to modify my driving habits. I try to make better-planned round trips while mentally calculating the shortest distances between two points. The most frustrating roadblock to my dollar-saving measures is leaving the house in the hatchback and realizing that the freight would have been better transported in the…
Heels
I scuffed my way through another week of very little writing. I’m not a person who feels that writing every day is necessary for a man to refer to himself as a writer. I believe that ideas must be allowed to flow freely, and when a good one comes through, I want to direct it…
Play Ball!
I don’t follow professional sports with any regularity. Indeed, I check the scores of Red Sox games, and I’ll listen to about any baseball game on a transistor radio. While America had needed baseball for many summers when despair was afoot, this year is moving to the top of that list. Yes, of course, you…
Channeling Some Inner Ukrainian
I stay away from political rants. I’ve tried to anyway. I have strong beliefs formed from extensive listening, but even more observation. You never believe you are wrong, at least, until you are. Watching this crisis in Ukraine has found me riding the fence about America’s responsibilities, but I’m not writing this to gain approval…
Worn-Out Wallets and Pickpockets
She never raises her voice, but she does become vehement regarding certain things. On her last visit to the jagged edge of America, the Significant One picked up my battered black calfskin wallet from the counter and pointed out that I needed a new one; I don’t. She spoke loud enough for the Faceplant machine…
Ramblings and Rutabagas
I’m a collector, a slow-cooked dish of all that I’ve ever done, and lots of what I’ve seen, heard, and read. There’s nothing new under the sun, and I’m proof that this Ecclesiastical idiom is nothing short of being accurate and factual. I’m sure I’m just rejuvenating some thoughts—or an idea— that blessed someone else…
The Goodbye (to the) Girl
When TTW (Tow Truck Wayne) called me, I was excited. He’d found me an old Honda CRV. When TTW calls, there is no rapport building. No questions about how the family is doing, certainly no compliments. “Hey, I’ve got a junk Honda over here. I know you like them. The owner died, and…
Odd Man Out
Ellie is having withdrawals from a few weeks with the Significant One. She only sleeps in the SO’s chair for a couple of days immediately following the frequent early morning— wheels-up— departures. She then returns to her standard sleeping couch or the bay window; I suppose after the scent of a woman has left…